


AU

by zenonaa



Series: LGBT Pride Month [25]
Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Despair AU, M/M, lgbt pride month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 09:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19373482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenonaa/pseuds/zenonaa
Summary: '“They will triumph if you don’t take a stand against them,” said Clover. He stroked Kiyotaka’s cheek with his thumb. “Ishimaru-kun, you have dedicated your life to enforcing rules, but what if those rules that society has set up don’t apply to everyone? What if some are morally wrong? What if they are poison in society?”Kiyotaka mouthed something, but even Kiyotaka didn’t know what he was meant to be saying. His chest tightened, and the taste in his mouth was like the black mould growing in the room.'Ishimaru mourns his friend.





	AU

**Author's Note:**

> Set in an AU where the DR1 cast become Remnants of Despair instead. The fic it's based on can be read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18318629/chapters/43362350

Kiyotaka lay on his side on a stretcher, curled up and hugging a green hoodie against his chest. Through the window, bloody clouds could be seen dominating the sky, shaded purple in places but predominantly red. These days, the sky was always red. But Kiyotaka wasn’t looking at the window, or at anything, alone in what had been a classroom with a stretcher rescued from a hospital.

The door opened with a creak, yet Kiyotaka didn’t stir. He stayed perfectly still even as whoever had breached his sanctuary walked over.

“Are you asleep, Ishimaru-kun?” the visitor asked.

That voice belonged to Clover: a blond guy around Kiyotaka’s age despite the notably shorter height, with faded blue eyes and a polite tone that never wavered from its airy quality. Kiyotaka tensed. If he had his way, he would have stayed as he was, but the prickling in his skin like cockroaches writhing advised him otherwise so he sat up.

Regardless of how dim the room was, with no artificial lighting, Clover would have seen the dark circles under Kiyotaka’s eyes, as well as the permanent tremor in his face as he verged on collapsing into tears without ever reaching that point. He would have noticed Kiyotaka’s unwashed scent and rumpled uniform of a now defunct academy.

“You’re not going to be of any use here,” chirped Clover. “You’ve been in this room all week. You might as well be cut up and served in a stew if you’re just going to lie in here all the time, or maybe you could donate your skin to Togami-kun’s cape. Come with me.”

Clover gestured at Kiyotaka as he turned away. Kiyotaka wordlessly followed him out of the room, holding the green hoodie under his arm. They emerged into a wooden corridor, with stained plank flooring and large framed windows that let in light, tinting everything in its hue. A slate of black chalkboard hung above the door to the classroom, suspended by metal hooks. His name was written on it in white paint.

The building used to be a regular junior high school until its abrupt shutdown. Junko, who after the tragedy became their class’ unofficial leader, had wanted them to use the old school building at Hope’s Peak as their official base, but the headmaster shut himself in there first with a different class. A high level security system involving machine guns, rocket launchers and landmines prevented anyone from getting close, let alone breaking in, so for the time being, Kiyotaka and the others had stationed themselves in a city across the country.

Roku Junior High, this place had been called. Clover walked ahead of Kiyotaka, his hands behind his back, and Kiyotaka dragged his feet.

They turned into another corridor, then another, before arriving at a door that Clover opened. It seemed like an ordinary classroom at a glance, but on longer inspection, other details seeped in, like the broken desks, upturned chairs and blood splatters everywhere. While Kiyotaka lingered in the doorway, Clover walked to the other side of the room where broken windows took up most of the wall.

“Look outside, Ishimaru-kun,” said Clover without turning back.

Kiyotaka approached in his trance-like state. Beyond the courtyard, bordered with barbed walls, lay a ruined city. Torn up streets greeted Kiyotaka’s dull eyes. Bodies and debris decorated them like sprinkles on a sundae drenched in strawberry sauce.

Clover waved toward the outside world. “What do you think of this?”

“It’s madness,” croaked Kiyotaka.

“Madness? What do you mean by that?”

“Like... chaos,” explained Kiyotaka. His voice rasped.

“You mean like disorderly? Hard to understand? Unpredictable?”

“Yes.”

Clover stared at him for a while. He turned back to the window.

“Ever since the tragedies of Hope’s Peak, the world has fallen deeper into despair,” remarked Clover. “Everywhere you look, there is war. Famine. Death. Conquest.”

Kiyotaka didn’t respond, so Clover elaborated.

“Do you know what they want to do?” Clover asked him. “They want to consume the world in their filth.”

In this case, ‘they’ referred to everyone else. It meant the people who had worshipped Hope’s Peak, who rolled around gleefully in its corruption and who took away Kiyotaka’s precious friend. He could still see the fire that devoured Makoto, surrounded by masked people who could be anyone. Everyone.

Clover reached up to cup Kiyotaka’s cheek. Kiyotaka stiffened and breathed in, but he didn’t breathe out.

“They will triumph if you don’t take a stand against them,” said Clover. He stroked Kiyotaka’s cheek with his thumb. “Ishimaru-kun, you have dedicated your life to enforcing rules, but what if those rules that society has set up don’t apply to everyone? What if some are morally wrong? What if they are poison in society?”

Kiyotaka mouthed something, but even Kiyotaka didn’t know what he was meant to be saying. His chest tightened, and the taste in his mouth was like the black mould growing in the room.

“What use are rules if the people who make them don’t follow them?” asked Clover. His lashes fluttered as he drew out his thin smile wider. “Or... if the people enforcing them don’t follow them? It is said that some people must make the rules, others must enforce them and a third group must deal the punishments. However, what if society all belongs to the same, dirty system?”

Without realising, Kiyotaka had leaned into Clover’s cold hand.

“What can we do?” said Kiyotaka, his heart racing.

“There can’t be order when there is also corruption. We must push back. We must deliver justice. We must punish those who have hurt us and remove them. They have no place in our ideal world. Ishimaru-kun, you have suffered because of society’s corruption. You must restore order.” Colours seemed to swirl in Clover’s eyes, or maybe it was Kiyotaka’s vision that did. Kiyotaka’s legs felt weak but he remained standing. “Ishimaru-kun, you can help shape this world into a just world. You, an honest, hard-working individual with a clear sense of right and wrong. You can teach and inspire the next generation and eliminate all those who threaten us.”

Clover placed his other hand on Kiyotaka’s waist.

“I believe in you, Ishimaru-kun,” he said.

In that moment, Kiyotaka was reminded of someone. Of one of his classmates, with short brown hair and faded hazel eyes. Who didn’t make fun of him for his awkwardness, instead agreeing to help him with his social skills and offering friendship despite Kiyotaka’s family’s shame. Who didn’t care about that. Who taught him to have fun, who encouraged and supported him and loved him and who he loved back.

Kiyotaka’s recollection of Makoto crumbled as he blinked, and Clover stood before him once more in a melancholy classroom. He felt his face warm and turned his head away.

“Sorry. You reminded me of someone,” said Kiyotaka. Clover turned Kiyotaka’s head back and when Clover pulled him into a kiss, Kiyotaka shifted but didn’t back away, and the green hoodie under his arm finally fell to the floor.


End file.
